“Why do we need to buy something so memorable?” I asked her. “He’s going to be twenty-three years old, not twenty-one or thirty.”
“I want him to remember it, it needs to be… meaningful, you know? Something that he will still remember me by...us, I mean... when he’s forty.”
The timing seemed perfect for me to ask her the question I had wanted to ask since I had moved in with them. Surely her desire to be unforgettable to Michael was a sign of love!
“Hannah… You and Michael, have you ever, you know, been more than just friends?” I curiously asked her.
She stopped chewing her food and looked down. She was staring into space like a lost child trying to remember how to get out of the maze of hallways of the shopping centre. I suddenly wished I hadn’t brought it up as I could sense that I had woken something unmentionable.
“Sorry, Hannah...” I started to say, “I didn’t mean to–”
“No,” she interrupted, “no, we haven’t.”
Then she remained silent while she forced herself to take a bite of her bagel. I decided not to add a single word. The subject was obviously not to be brought up again.
I carried on submitting many ideas for a present in order to break the ice I had awkwardly created. Bit by bit, Hannah started to speak other words than just maybe and no. I think it was when I mentioned a Barbie doll that she finally laughed and ate with appetite again. Thank goodness for that. Hannah was the last person on earth I wanted to upset.
“What about a jukebox?” I asked.
“Yes!” she shouted overjoyed. “That is perfect!”
So we set off through the shopping maze and back to the High-Tech section, where we finally found a striking red jukebox for our roommate. A little pricey… I must admit. I had never even bought myself something so costly! But it made Hannah happy, and would probably make Michael very happy too, and that was all I cared about.
Chapter 7
Olivia’s tummy was rumbling like thunder during Mr Hutchins class. She tried to hide the noise by curling up into a ball on her seat, but that couldn’t have been comfortable at all. Even the teacher heard the growling and the gurgling coming from her stomach. He would squint at her now and then, as if his acknowledgement was going to stop the interfering noise. I was sitting three rows behind and I felt bad for her. A solution to her discomfort came to mind as I remembered having a small Mars bar in my bag. I passed it on to Duncan who was in front of me, then he gave it to the person just behind Olivia. It was Chris. He took it in his hands, wondered why Duncan had given him a chocolate bar, looked at him, then noticed me sitting behind him. I unskilfully mimed Olivia’s noisy tummy by rubbing mine with my right hand and by pointing at my friend with my left one. He smiled, and for a moment there, I thought he was going to be cooperative. I was wrong. He ripped the Mars bar’s rapper and took a bite. He munched it slowly and provocatively while staring at me. I sighed with anger and gave him the finger. Luckily, I also had a Kit Kat in my coat. I was saving it for the afternoon, but Olivia was in need. This time, I waited until Mr Hutchins turned his back to us, then threw the Kit Kat over to my friend. I may have been a terrible mime but I was an excellent thrower! It hit her desk and landed on the floor next to her feet. She looked up and winked to thank me.
While trying to concentrate on Mr Hutchins’ boring economy lesson, I heard a ruffling sound. My instinct told me it was Chris up to no good...and indeed it was. He threw his empty wrapper back my way, making it fall right into my lap. That was it! I wasn’t going to put up with his badgering anymore. I grabbed my little white rubber that was hanging out of my pencil case and fired it as hard as I could. It hit him on the head and dazzled him for a short moment. Unfortunately, everybody had noticed. Everybody. Including the teacher.
“Miss Bell! What on earth do you think you’re doing?” he screamed. “How old are you, for goodness sake!”
“Sorry,” I answered, with every student’s eyes gazing at me.
“That is an unforgivable attitude in my class! It’s hard enough having to get up so early to teach you the principles of macroeconomics! Might as well put some loud music on while you’re at it!”
“Sorry,” I said again, blushing like hell.
“I don’t think you deserve to follow the rest of the lesson… OUT!” he shouted.
I was so embarrassed I couldn’t feel my legs. I discretely picked up my pencil case, my notebook and my bag, and ran out of the classroom. I didn’t dare look at anybody on my way out, not even Olivia. Why did I go and do that? I asked myself. It was childish of me and I wasn’t proud, but I was convinced it was all Chris’ fault. He started it! I walked over to classroom 2B for our next lesson and waited in there for three quarters of an hour. I tried to calm down my anger... Wrath was rushing through my body like a tidal wave!
After remaining silent, enraged and lonely in the empty classroom for one hour, I realised something was wrong. It was past ten o’clock and nobody had turned up, not even Tommy or Mrs Auteberry. I checked the schedule I had stuck in my agenda.
10:00. Marketing
Mrs Auteberry
Classroom 2B
I was in 2B and it was five past ten. What was going on? I left the room to check the schedule that was pined up on our class’ blackboard two storeys above. I ran up the stairs and through the hallways. When I arrived in front of it, I noticed a red note stuck with sellotape next to our timetable. It was Mrs Auteberry’s writing.
Change of classroom scheduling: rats in classroom 2B!
For the time being, the lesson will take place in 6A.
Mrs Auteberry
“Damn it!” I shouted, and raced to 6A.
On my way there, I was hoping the lesson hadn’t started so that no one would notice my unpunctual arrival. I had a very bad feeling about it as I got closer and heard nobody chatting in the corridor. As I reached my destination, the classroom door was shut. Shit! I thought. I knocked and waited to hear the teacher’s squeaky voice.
“Come in,” said Mrs Auteberry.
I reluctantly opened the door and looked at her with a nervous smile.
“Sorry,” I said, “didn’t see the change of schedule! I was waiting in 2B.”
“Didn't you hear Mr Hutchins' announcement, like everybody else?”
She didn't give me any time to explain myself and told me to take a seat immediately. I sat next to Olivia who had saved one for me.
“Did you see any rats?” asked Mrs Auteberry.
“No, I didn’t think of looking for any, I didn’t know!”
I could see that everyone around me was giggling, thinking how ridiculous I must have looked sitting all alone in a room full of rats – apparently.
“How come the classroom door was still open?” I asked her. “There should be a note on the door!”
“I guess they opened it today for the pest control technicians,” she explained.
At that very moment, something tickled my leg. Jim, who was sitting behind me, suddenly shouted “A RAT!” I screamed with fright and leaped off my chair. As I turned to him, I realized there was no rodent at all; he had caressed my leg with his ruler! All my classmates were laughing at me, and Chris, I could tell, was loving it.
“Now, now, that’s enough,” said Mrs Auteberry.
I sat back down next to Olivia who tried to comfort me with a quick stroke on my arm. I felt completely humiliated and all I could think about was the number of hours left before the day was over.
***
I slammed the front door as I got home that very evening. Hannah and Michael waved at me from the kitchen table.
“Bad day?” asked Michael.
I didn’t even have the strength to say “yes”, I just nodded and sighed.
“Well it couldn’t have been worse than this girl I heard about…” Hannah stated.
“Don’t tell me…” I said, “did you hear about a Rat Woman?”
“Yes!” she confirmed.
I looked at her with a hopeless expression on my face.
“That… that was…you?” she asked, flabbergasted.
I nodded and sighed again.
“A Rat Woman?” Michael asked, a little confused.
“It happened around ten o’clock this morning,” I started to explain.
“Word soon gets around... I knew about The Rat Woman at lunchtime!” interrupted Hannah.
“Can we please stop saying Rat Woman?” I begged.
I clarified what had happened as briefly as possible. I still couldn’t believe I had made such a fool of myself. Apart from being called a prude on the odd occasion, I had managed to get through my first two years at Uni without getting the slightest reputation. Some weren’t so fortunate. Tommy the geek was known to have made out with Mrs Elwyn, the cleaner. There was no actual proof of it but some students had noticed him tip-toe out of the cleaners’ supply room several times last year. Graham, as you may have gathered from the football match, was known as the worst loser of all time. A couple of months ago, he even punched a first year! And finally, Marsha, another student in my class, was titled The Dwarf given that she was the smallest person on campus. After this horrendous day, I had also become famous, and I was named The Rat Woman.
“Oh dear,” said Michael. “I’m afraid it might stick with you for the next couple of weeks, that’s usually how it is. In about a month’s time, they should have forgotten all about it though…” he added.
“Come and have something to eat, that’ll make you feel better,” said Hannah.
“What is there?”
“Pancakes and strawberry jam,” said Michael.
“Give me a break!” I groaned.
My roommates didn’t understand what was wrong with me. I suddenly had flashbacks of strawberry jam falling onto my white t-shirt and of Chris looking at me with an irritating grin on his face.
“Sorry,” I said to Michael and Hannah, “it’s not my day today.”
Chapter 8
Michael’s birthday party finally arrived. Something to cheer me up after such a hard time at Uni. Two weeks had passed since the rat incident and people were still calling me… well, you know… And it was driving me up the wall! I had been looking forward to Michael’s birthday; it would allow me to socialize with people outside university. As I was wrapping the jukebox with colourful paper in my bedroom, Hannah was preparing a couple of cakes in the kitchen and Michael was getting his music playlist ready in the living room. Guests were to arrive soon.
All his close friends were invited, so were a couple of his fellow students from Uni and artists from the little streets that we visited regularly. The funny caricaturist, Geoffrey, showed up last. I was determined to spend most of the party in his company. He was certainly going to make me laugh and wash all my embarrassments away. Throughout the evening, he did impressions of many famous actors such as Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean, Tom Hanks, Arnold Schwarzenegger in The Terminator, Mike Myers in Austin Powers and of course, Clint Eastwood. He had drawn a cartoon version of Michael for his birthday… Our dear roommate was thrilled.
When Hannah and I were cutting up the cakes into even portions, Geoffrey sneaked into the kitchen to have a look at them.
“Lemon cake! My favourite!” he whispered to us.
“Good, you can have my piece,” said Hannah, “I don’t like lemon.”
“And what about you, Amanda?” Geoffrey asked me.
“You can call me Mandy,” I said with confidence.
“Mandy,” he repeated, “I bet you prefer the one full of strawberries!”
“Absolutely not!” I replied. “The chocolate one.”
“I’ll go check that everybody’s ready to sing Happy Birthday,” said Hannah, leaving Geoffrey and me alone in the room.
He leaned against the counter and gazed at me while I finished slicing the cakes.
“Go on then…” I said to him.
“Go on then what?” he asked, amused.
“I can tell you’re dying to do an impression of me!”
He laughed then started his performance. He took a little knife from the counter and slowly divided a small pork pie into six even portions. While doing so, he kept looking up at me every two seconds, as if to check I was still watching, and he stuck the front of his tongue out of one side of his mouth to appear concentrated.
“I don’t look like that!” I protested, laughing at his exaggeration.
He softly smiled at me.
“It’s time!” shouted Hannah as she walked back into the kitchen.
Geoffrey, my roommate and I each took a cake out to the living room and sang Happy Birthday on our way there. Guests gradually joined in and Michael blushed when his friends started to take photos.
“Happy Birthday Michael!” we all screamed at the end of the song.
He blew out ten candles that were sitting on the lemon cake – we didn’t have twenty-three! – and everyone cheered. I returned to the kitchen to get some napkins and whipped cream to accompany the desert. While facing the counter and opening two packets of plain white napkins, I saw a shadow on the cupboard in front of me. I recognised Geoffrey’s frizzy black hair. That main characteristic of his always made him funnier when he did his impressions. His hair would move about on his head as if it had a mind of its own. I then felt his hands on my hips, so I turned round. He looked at me with desire. I didn’t move, surprised by his closeness. I liked Geoffrey, he had always made me laugh since the day I met him, but I didn’t know he could be so direct in the expression of his feelings. Can I talk about feelings? Isn’t it a little too soon? He leaned forward and began to kiss my lips.
“Jukebox!” I shouted in his face.
He looked at me a little shocked.
“Sorry?”
“Sorry, it’s Michael’s present,” I said. “It’s still in my bedroom, I forgot to put it in the living room with all the other gifts.”
I ran to my bedroom and shut the door behind me. You didn’t handle that very well, I commented to myself. What should I have done? Kissed him back? Put my hands on his hips too? Boy, I was so bad at this kind of stuff! I had been out with some guys before, of course, and I had been all the way with two of them...but today, although I liked Geoffrey, I wasn’t in the mood and I couldn’t pretend. I carried the wrapped jukebox to the living room and avoided eye contact with Geoffrey as much as possible. Obviously, that was impossible. When I returned to the kitchen, he returned too.
“Is something the matter, Mandy?” he asked.
“No, nothing’s wrong… I’m sorry about earlier, I just… I’ve had a rough couple of weeks… and I just… I’m not in the mood. I’m very sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, “it’s okay. I came on a little strong…”
“I was surprised,” I replied.
We both tittered, but after that, everything was back to the way it was. Kind of, at least. He helped me give out napkins to everyone and we focused on entertaining Michael’s guests. After opening all of his friends’ gifts, Michael then tore off my colourful wrapping paper and discovered the little red jukebox Hannah and I had chosen for him. He looked at us with his eyes wide open and his hands trembling with sudden emotion.
“I saw this a few months ago and I loved it!” he said.
Hannah put her arm around his back and hugged him tenderly. I simply smiled at him. I was still convinced there was something special between Michael and Hannah, something devoted and genuine, something even stronger than friendship... But I couldn’t figure out what it was.
Chapter 9
“Come on Olivia! We’re going to be late!” I shouted whilst running towards the university’s small bakery.
Mr Hutchins had kept us thirty minutes longer in class because two students had barged into the lesson half way through. He decided to punish everybody by talking about our upcoming exam during our lunch break. We only had thirty minutes left to buy a sandwich, eat, go to the toilet and run t
o the other side of the campus for our Management of sales operations class.
“My trousers keep falling down! I forgot my belt!” shouted Olivia.
When we arrived at the little shop, there was a long exasperating queue.
“You wait in line while I go to the ladies’ room,” suggested Olivia, “then you can go and I’ll hold our space.”
I agreed and waited patiently. I looked around and noticed many familiar faces from my year. Duncan, Pauline, Frank, Helen… and Jessica, but without Chris. She was standing alone in the queue. That was weird, where was he? Surely he wasn’t going to leave the most popular girl eat by herself!
“I’m back!” said Olivia, making me jump.
“You were quick!”
“There’s nobody in the loos, everyone’s in the queue,” she explained.
“Very well, see you in a sec’!” I told her.
She was right; all ten toilets were available. I went into the cleanest – as you do.
When I had finished my business, I walked over to the sinks to wash my hands. I suddenly heard the door squeak and I looked up into the mirror to see if I recognised the girl who had just stepped inside.
“Hi!” said Chris.
I couldn’t believe it.
“You do realise you’re in the ladies' room, don’t you?” I asked as if he was dumb.
“Yeah, I need to pee.”
“Go to the men’s room!” I instructed him.
“I thought I would be in better company here,” he answered.
“You’re disgusting!”
I hurried washing and drying my hands and as I turned round, Chris was still standing at the door.
“What are you waiting for?” I told him, aggravated. “Pee in a woman’s toilet if you have to! You creep!”
“You know that’s not why I’m here,” he said bluntly.
“Want to find a way to humiliate me again? Is that it?”
To be loved Page 3
